LYING          
          IN   MY    ROOM,          
  ARMS FLOPPED OVER THE EDGE OF THE BED. 
      SOMETHING POKING  MY  LEFT HAND, 
                 SOMETHING      SLIMY, 
      SLITHERING  AROUND  THE FINGERS, 
          UP    THE   ARM.          
 IS   IT  DRUG-FUELED  APATHY?         
         I   DON'T   MOVE   THE   ARM. 
                                 
 WHATEVER IT IS THAT'S  TASTING ME,    
 IT    MOVES   FURTHER   UP,           
 REACHES    THE    ARMPIT.             
 I   TURN  MY  HEAD  TOWARD  IT.       
            LOOKS    LIKE    SEAGRASS. 
        IT'S   KINDA   CUTE.        
                                 
     ONCE IT'S  UP MY  NECK  AND ON MY 
 FACE,    I    BITE    IT.             
     THE  TEXTURE  IS LIKE THAT  OF  A 
 JUICY                          GRAPE, 
    AND THE SQUISH  TASTES LIKE  SWEET 
                      CUCUMBER.    
    IT'S VERY GOOD.    AND I     
 SUCK    MORE   OF   IT   IN.          
             CHEW   IT.             
    THE SEAGRASS DOESN'T SEEM TO MIND. 
                                 
     APATHY  GONE,  I  SIT   UP.      
    THE  TENDRILS ARE  STUCK UNDER    
   MY  SHIRT,    ENTERING  BY THE ARM 
 AND  EXITING  THROUGH  THE COLLAR.     
    THIS MAKES IT  HARD  FOR ME TO PUSH 
 MORE   OF   IT   IN   MY   MOUTH.      
   I MAKE TO REMOVE THE SHIRT,  BUT THE 
 SEAGRASS FINALLY PROTESTS  WHEN I TRY TO 
 MOVE     MY     LEFT     ARM.          
      SO  -   EATING  IT  IS  OK,     
        MOVING  IT IS NOT.